


The Prime and the Warlord

by A_Writer_of_Whimsy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alpha Trion is Maurice and Orion Pax is Belle, Aphrodisiacs, Beauty and the Beast AU, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blow Jobs, Cybertron, Cybertronian Civil War, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, Megatron is the Beast obvs, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Orgy, Other, Peacetime AU, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sentinel Prime is only mentioned, Sex Pollen, Spike and Valve Systems, Spitroasting, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings, War Elements, suggestions of violence, tags added as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22651492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Writer_of_Whimsy/pseuds/A_Writer_of_Whimsy
Summary: A series of drabbles centered around Optimus Prime/Orion Pax and Megatron/Megatronus.___Only Ch.6 has a slight non-consensual aspect to it, the rest are consensual interfacing fun times.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Orion Pax
Comments: 10
Kudos: 183





	1. PEACTIME AU #1

Megatron slammed Dirge out of the way. He ran through the halls shouting at everyone to “MOVE!” Mecha crashed their metal frames into walls to obey his command. The Decepticon Commander entered the medbay doors like Unicron was behind him.

He came to a sudden stop when he saw an exhausted Optimus Prime holding something against his chassis. It was tiny, squirming against his creator. Knock Out walked over to him while Hook saw to the Prime’s vitals. 

“They’re both fine. Completely normal emergence.” Knock Out brought the frazzled sire to meet his new spark. “Optimus? Megatron is here.”

“I heard.” Optimus’ optics shuttered open. His normally bright azure lights were a bit dim, but he smiled up at Megatron. “Come see.” 

Megatron leaned over the med-berth. Optimus gently rolled over and showed the tiny sparkling in his hands. Like most new sparks, they were grey protoform with nary a special marking to be seen yet. Colors and distinctive features would come later. Fussily, the new spark blinked open their optics and hiccuped on an aborted cry. 

Megatron knelt down on one knee, putting his face at level with his child. He brought a massive hand to gently caress the pudgy cheek. “So soft.” 

“Mmm,” Optimus agreed. “And very warm, too. Freshly forged.” 

The sparkling started to really kick up their cries, arms and legs moving in protest to being woken up. Megatron flared his field and sent a pulse through their creator bond. The new spark froze, and then blinked at him in wonderment. Optimus did the same, flaring his EMP field with love, comfort, and safety. 

The new spark looked from Optimus to him and back again. “Hello there,” Optimus said, “we’re your creators. We love you very much.”

Megatron rubbed his back of his knuckles against the new spark’s cheek. “You don’t know it yet, but you will be the most protected sparkling to ever be brought from Solus’ light.” 

Optimus Prime laughed as the new spark cooed at them. “You’ll be quite spoiled, I’m afraid.” 

Megatron thought about disagreeing, but remembered Starscream’s trine showering Optimus with baby gifts, so maybe not. Their new spark made a small noise, it sounded questioning. Megatron decided to answer.

“Yes, you’re going to be just fine. We’ll make sure of it.” 


	2. PEACTIME AU #2

Megatron was on sparkling duty, and he didn’t mind. Optimus had to be in a meeting with Magnus for a few hours to go over a new treaty, and Soundwave was busy with the communiques coming in from the Pronix dignitaries. He sat on the bridge with Athena in his lap. She was on her tummy, fast asleep. She needed to get her nap in or he’d be hearing it from Optimus. 

She more than fit on one of his huge thighs. Her tiny body was often held in only one of her creator’s hands. Although he worked with tablets and gave orders, he was conscious of her squirming around every once and awhile. He patted or rubbed her back occasionally if she sounded a bit distressed, but she settled down easily enough today. 

Starscream came on the bridge a couple of hours into his work. Starscream’s optics zeroed in on the tiny form resting, and Megatron gave him a look. The seeker pretended to look away and not care, but Megatron knew better. 

“Don’t.” He forewarned his Second in Command and pain in his aft. 

“Whatever do you mean, oh mighty leader?” Starscream asked as he picked up a datapad and started tapping away. 

“She is recharging, and recharging well. Stay away.” Megatron put a hand over his child, encompassing her completely. 

Starscream made a face of mock innocence. “I would never steal a sparkling from her own sire!” 

“You did it several times this month!” Megatron said in a hiss. 

Starscream waved a hand in dismissal. “I brought her back.” 

“That’s not the point. Stop absconding with my child. Make your own if you want one so bad.” Megatron noted Skywarp and Thundercrakcer off to the side near the door snickering. 

“And ruin  _ my frame? _ Absolutely not.” Starscream grumbled under his breath. “Besides, it’s not for lack of trying.” He walked off, seeming to drop his plans for now. 

Megatron didn’t let down his guard. All three of the Elite Trine were in the room, and he didn’t doubt they planned to abscond with his sparkling at the first chance they got. He had known seeker creator protocols were strong, but nobody bothered to inform him that seekers were communal caretakers. 

Therefore, all sparklings were equally in danger of adoption. 

Athena was loved at first sight by Autobots and Decepticons alike, but the seekers were a whole other level of obsessed devotion. Luckily, the other seekers could easily be told to GET AWAY and they feared their master enough to obey. Starscream, with zero sense of self-preservation, didn’t. 

Megatron kept his right peripherals on Skywarp and Thundercracker. He knew for a fact that both Skywarp and Starscream intended for Thundercracker to carry their own sparkling when possible. He came across their semi-public rendezvous more than once. Thundercracker was favoring his left leg more than his right, leaning on the wall. 

Alright then, Thundercrakcer wouldn’t be the one running out with Athena. Skywarp seemed the most likely, as he regularly teleported his child off to their trine quarters. He’d found them once, all cooing and chirping at his child like maniacs. He had to retrieve his daughter with a lot of force and bellowed words. Usually an exasperated Optimus managed to convince Thundercracker to return his daughter before bedtime. 

Well, not today! 

Athena whined and lifted herself up with her tiny arms. She started her whimpering, being unhappy to be awake noises. Megatron gently picked her up and settled her on his chassis. She saw his face and her whimpers paused for a brief moment, only to start up again in higher volume. 

“I know, sweetspark, it’s so hard being waited on hand and foot.” He murmured at her and kissed her cheek. He got out the low grade in his sub space, shook the tiny cube and popped up the nozzle. He placed her in the crook of his arm to feed her. Her cries stopped abruptly as she started taking in her lunch. A few of his soldiers peeked over their shoulders to grin at the sight before going back to work. 

Starscream appeared by his left side. “I could do that for you, if you’d like.” 

“I am more than capable of feeding my sparkling, shove off.” Megatron bared his denta, but Starscream wasn’t fazed. 

Starscream pouted and his wings dropped a little. “It’s been two days, you need a break.”

“Will you just-!” 

BOOM! Megatron curled up around a crying Athena. Barricade barked orders, and mechs moved to put out the fire. Megatron shot up with his daughter in his arms and put the throne between himself and the threat. Starsceam’s blades were out, ready to slice any threat. 

“It’s ok! It’s ok!” Frenzy coughed as he appeared behind a cloud of smoke. “It was a prank gone wrong, relax.” 

Athena continued to cry at high volume. Megatron pulsed his EMP field at her and patted her back. “It’s alright, sweetspark, it’s just idiots being idiots.” He kept murmuring comforting words at her. 

Frenzy was getting yelled at on all sides from the Decepticons, Starscream chief among them. “You could have hurt the new spark, you simpleton!” Skywarp came over to yell with him, adding in more creative cursing. 

Megatron focused on his upset child. He kissed the top of her head, bounced her up and down, and she calmed a bit. He pulsed his love at her through the bond, and she responded with fear back. He sent his comfort, his humor at her, and she made a confused whining sound at him. 

A hobbling Thundercracker came over to him. “Sir.”

“Thundercracker.” He glared at him in suspicion. 

“Is she ok?” He sounded sincere in his question.

Megatron smirked at him. “Better than you, I’d imagine.”

A blush spread over Thundercracker’s faceplates. “I agreed to be the carrier, so, yeah.” He looked away and over at his trinemates. “They’re very persistent.” He shrugged, his blue wings bobbing with his shoulders. “Can’t really complain, though.” 

Athena finally settled down. She turned to see Thundercracker. She smiled shyly at him. Thundercracker came forward and chirped at her in seeker speak. Athena giggled and brought her hand out to him, and the seeker couldn’t resist. Thundercracker let her grab one of his fingers and trilled at her in low, soothing tones. 

“What are you saying to her?” Megatron asked, curious. 

Thundercracker smiled. “I told her she’s beautiful and going to be a lot of trouble for all of us when she starts to walk.” 

Megatron laughed. “That she will be.” 

Thundercracker glanced up at Megatron. “I know you’re not thrilled with us continually keeping her, but we’re just enamored is all. It’s a coding thing.” 

“I know.” Megatron held Athena a little closer. “But she’s so small and so fragile. I can’t let anything happen to her.” 

“No one on this ship will let anything happen to her, sir.” Thundercracker trilled and cooed at her again. Athena made happy noises back at him. She looked up at her sire, as if checking it was fine. Megatron pulsed comfort and safety at her, and she went back to babbling at the seeker. 

“It’s also good practice for the future.” Thundercracker dared to give his leader a begging stare. “And my trine need all the help they can get.” 

Megatron narrowed his optics. “Are you trying to ask this time? After taking her without permission the past twenty eight times?” 

“...Yes?” Thundercracker caressed Athena’s pudgy cheek. “Besides, if we got to have her, when Optimus comes back you could get some time alone?” He leaned on his left leg again. “When is the last time you two got a few hours alone?” 

Megatron opened his mouth to say, ‘None of your fragging business,’ but stopped himself. Thundercracker had a point. After signing the peace treaties, they got into a relationship of sorts, and then Athena got thrown into the mix. Time was short, moments caught between taking care of their daughter and keeping the galaxy from going back into a civil war. 

Megatron hated this argument was working. 

“We’ll bring her back before bedtime.” Thundercracker promised. “That gives you a few hours with your conjunx.” 

Hesitating, Megatron gently put Athena into Thundercracker’s waiting hands. She went easily enough. She was a social new spark, often handed off anyone but the seekers. Ratchet and Bumblebee were top favorites, although for some strange reason so was Soundwave. Thundercracker grinned down at her as he cradled her against his cockpit. 

“Before she has to recharge.” Megatron reminded him. 

Skywarp suddenly ran up to them. “Yeah, got it boss, bye!” He grabbed Thundercracker’s wings, and they left in purple lights. Megatron walked off towards his own quarters. Might as well make use of the time. 


	3. Peacetime AU #3

Getting oriented to a sparkling’s demanding sleep schedule was a challenge. Megatron groaned awake as, for the fourth time that night, their newly forged sparkling cried out in need of energon. Optimus was already up and moving to get them. 

Megatron grumbled out. “Get on the inside this time and I’ll get up.” 

“It should be the last one,” Optims said. Low grade cube in servo, he flicked up the nozzle and tilted the softly glowing fuel to his child’s intakes. 

Megatron retorted, “That’s what you said two times ago.” 

“Shhhh,” Optimus said as he sat back on their berth. “They are already falling back asleep.” 

Megatron murmured, “I’m telling you, they’re a femme.” 

“How can you possibly tell? They’re just a lump of grey right now.” Their child made happy little suckling noises and grabbed at the air with their tiny sercos. “A beautiful little lump, but a lump still.”

Megatron rolled over to see their tiny creation. He brought up a finger and traced lightly over their head. “I’d love you no matter what you chose to become.” 

“And you can always change your mind later,” Optimus whispered. “We’re not Functionists. Change and be whoever you’d like to be.” 

Their creation stopped slurping, so Optimus gently took out the nozzle and stowed away the empty bottle in his subspace compartment. He stood back up to put them back into a crib. Megatron sat up, staring into the dimly lit room of their habsuite. He watched Optimus place their child into the crib oh-so gently with a small kiss to their forehead. 

Megatron moved over to let Optimus sit beside him. The Prime rested his helm against Megatron’s shoulder, and Megatron knocked his helm softly against the Prime’s. Their servos found each other, clinging together in a sudden moment of intimate need. 

“I think we’re oddly suited to being parents,” Optimus confessed. 

“Oddly?” Megatron asked. “We’ve commanded idiots on both sides for so long. I don’t know about you, but parenting doesn’t seem that far removed.” 

“Partially true, but I meant us working as a team.” Optimus laughed, his form shaking along Megatron’s side. “We seem to have fallen into a perfect place where all our philosophies seem to align.” 

“Ah,” Megatron squeezed Optimus’ servo, “you worried I’d be more gruff? More harsh or cruel?”

“Well, no, but perhaps not so indulgent?” Optimus moved to stare into Megatron’s red optics. “But it is nice to see you care for them, and you’re so open with your affection.” 

Megatron leaned down to give Optimus a chaste kiss. “For all my armor, a spark still pulses in my chestplates, and I feel them.” He brought up a servo to the heavily armored pectoral metal. “I feel them as if they were a part of me, and always had been.” 

Optimus kissed him back on the cheek. “Good, I feel much the same.” The Prime laughed a bit. “Could you imagine if we made them only a hundred years before? A moment of passion and then, oops?”

Megatron shuddered. “I’d rather not think about it.” It could’ve been all too possible. Optimus and Megatron had been encountering each other off the battlefield for some “R&R” after peace talks in the last century. It was entirely possible there could’ve been an “oops” before they were officially bonded.

“Go back to recharge.” Megatron lightly shoved his conjunx back into the berth. “You need your rest, and I want to bond with my creation, too.” 

Optimus got onto his side and pulled the thermal sheets over his frame. “If they are a femme, what do we name them?” 

“Hush, we’ll figure it out later.” Megatron spooned up against his once enemy now lover. “I’ll send you my top ten when you’re out of your meeting tomorrow.” 

“Hmm,” Optimus responded sleepily before he drifted off. He had some ideas as well. 


	4. Beauty and the Beast AU #1

Alpha Trion ducked behind the remnants of a crumbling building. Close behind him, his apprentice Orion Pax followed, staying down low. Their redevouzous to the meeting point for a pick up was in but an hour. Alpha Trion knew Megatron intended to capture him. To what aim, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want to find out. 

Orion Pax softly told him. “There are a few Decepticons behind us. I think they’re heading for Dai Atlas' building.” 

Dai Atlas allowed them refuge in his house out in Praxas. With Iacon under attack, it seemed prudent to move. Alpha Trion took Orion with him and not much else. His memories stored so much of Cybertron’s history and knowledge, he didn’t really need datapads or dataslugs. 

He’d assumed Megatron and his army would lose at Iacon. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be, and the Decepticons tore through Praxas in the early morning. Alpha Trion saw a contingent walking about on a bridge above them. Seekers zoomed overhead. They just needed to get to the hospital a few blocks away, but it was so fraught with danger... 

“Stay with me and do as I do.” Alpha Trion stayed low, moving from debris to debris. Orion stayed in his shadow the whole way. It was slow going, but stealth over speed was essential. Orion once grabbed him from moving. His optics saw the drones buzzing around, trying to find them. 

Just a block away, they had to crawl on hands and knees, pausing when they heard a cry here or there. Orion shook in his plating, but kept moving forward. Alpha Trion wanted to comfort him, but couldn’t risk even a ping over comms. He heard detailed reports of a telepath on the Decepticon’s side.

Orion Pax was a heavily protected apprentice. Alpha Trion had perhaps shielded him too well from the world. He never meant to expose him to this war, and hated himself for putting the mech in danger. He decided early on to keep him sequestered away in the archives, kept away from the prying optics of the Senators and Functionist overseers. 

At the hospital, Alpha Trion pointed and said, “All the way up. They said there would be a shuttle incoming. I expect fighting.”

Orion nodded. They crossed a street, checking for combatants, but finding only an empty street. When they got inside, Alpha Trion gasped. Metal frames littered the grounds. He turned to warn Orion, but the mech already saw and winced. 

Without a word, they both headed up the stairway. Halfway up, the floor beneath them shook and the building swayed. Orion cried out, and Alpha Trion grabbed hold of a rail. They started running up the stairs, ignoring the cacophony of noise. 

“Another bomb run?” Orion asked. 

“No, it sounds like an air battle.” Alpha Trion picked up the pace. “Our escorts must be trying to clear the air to get us out.” 

He busted through the roof door. Around him, seekers were shooting at war shuttles, trying to take them down. He grabbed Orion’s hand and they moved to the landing pad. The biggest shuttle came down to land beside them, scorch marks all over its frame. 

Senate guards came out, rifles at the ready. “Alpha Trion, quickly!” 

“Good to see you, Ironhide!” Alpha Trion yelled over the noise. 

He lost his grip on Orion’s hand. He turned to see why and froze. 

Megatron slammed into the roof. Another mech, the telepath Soundwave, crashed in right beside him. Alpha Trion felt his spark freeze when the mech’s canon arm lifted straight at him and the transport. 

“Alpha Trion, I am in need of your services!” Megatron said, as if he were asking an old friend a minor favor. “I need you to translate something important for me.” He curled his hands into fists. His canon whined and a light appeared within the tunnel, weapon primed and ready. “Come to me, and I’ll let these other pests live.” 

Alpha Trion didn’t get to make a decision. The Senate guards grabbed at him and started moving him towards the shuttle. “No, wait! He’s too strong! He’ll destroy the ship and all of-!” 

Orion Pax declared, “Keep me instead!” 

Alpha Trion gasped and kept twisting in the arms of the Senate guards. “No, Orion!” 

“I can do the translations!” Orion said, keeping his frame between the Senior Archivist and the Decepticon Commander. “I can do them. You don’t need him. I’ll stay here. Let him go.” 

Megatron stepped forward, his canon arm still pointing at the guards and Alpha Trion. “Do you vow to join me? Declare loyalty to the cause?” 

After a long pause, Orion shook his head stubbornly. “No, but I will work for you. I will do whatever you want, just let Alpha Trion go.” 

“And why would I let a key figure of the Senate go and keep a nobody?” Megatron asked, his lip curling in derision. 

Orion paused and turned to give Alpha Trion a look over his shoulder. Alpha Trion hesitated, but then nodded his helm. 

“Because I have something the Senate needs.” Orion Pax opened his chestplates. 

Megatron in-vented hard. Soundwave stepped forward to see. Both of them were bathed in the light of the Matrix of Leadership.

Megatron said, “But it can’t be. Zeta Prime was just crowned, after I killed Sentinel…” He turned to share a gaze with Soundwave. 

Soundwave intoned, “Suggestion: Zeta Prime was chosen by the Senate, not by Primus.”

Orion closed his chest and put a hand over his chassis. “Sentinel Prime wasn’t a true Prime, either.” 

Megatron stared at him. “And are you?” 

“No!” Orion shook his head. “No, I’m just its bearer.”

“Very well,” Megatron grabbed his arm, “then come with me, little archivist. You shall be my prisoner until I deem you worthy of freedom.” 

Orion held his head up at a stubborn tilt. “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, but I wouldn’t expect a tyrant to understand.” 

Megatron threw Orion at Soundwave. “Keep hold of him.” 

Alpha Trion kept resisting as he was brought onto the shuttle. “Orion! I’ll get you back. I’ll find a way. I promise!” 


	5. Beauty and the Beast AU #2

At the Decepticon Headquarters in Iacon, Orion was “gifted” with two bracers and a collar. As a captive, he was either in his tiny, cramped cell or at a console working on the translations for the Primal Weapons. He was making steady progress, and he hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed the work. It was challenging, as it put all his knowledge of history and dead languages to the test. 

His guards at first were always terse and high strung. After weeks went by of nothing but desk work, they tended to get lax and nap on shift. Orion never bothered them until it was time for his ration or to go to recharge. However, he had a bad tendency of working past regular hours. More than once, he awoke to Soundwave shaking his shoulder and telling him it was far past his shift. 

One such day, he woke up to Megatron leaning over him. “Orion, you did it again.” 

He shuttered open his optics and sat up. “What time is it?” 

“Very, very late.” Megatron held an energon cube in his clawed hands. “Not that I don’t appreciate the work ethic, but there isn’t a deadline on this project.” He held out the cube. “Here. You missed both midday and evening rations.”

Orion took the cube and took a swig. “Thank you.” 

Megatron sat down in a chair beside him. “I read through your, shall we say, very thorough reports. You don’t have to give every single detail you find. Efficiency is key in a war.” 

Orion sighed. “Alpha Trion would say much the same.” He gulped down more of the energon. “This tastes different.” 

“It’s mid-grade, from my own stash.” Megatron leaned back. 

It struck Orion that he was having a conversation with the Leader of the Decepticons, the Silver Tyrant, for the first time. It felt oddly natural, as if they could’ve met before, but that was impossible. He took a more lingering sip on the energon. 

“I’ve rarely had mid-grade or high grade,” Orion admitted. “Even as an apprentice, Alpha Trion couldn’t manage to convince the Senators my rations should be changed.” 

“How does one become an apprentice to the Alpha Trion?” Megatron asked, crossing his legs. “I must admit I’m curious.” 

Orion Pax sipped on his cube. “I was a dock worker. There was an accident, an explosion of some kind. Alpha Trion was in the medical bay when they wheeled me in, and he knew he could save me. He reformatted me, changed my processing from low functioning limits to high functioning. I woke up and the whole world was different. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

Megatron tilted his helm. “So, you’re like an experiment?” 

“Hmm, more like proof? Alpha Trion doesn’t believe in the limitations and buffers put on lower castes. He thinks it goes against everything Primus stands for. He changed me, but he claims I was merely reaching my full potential possible with the Functionist caste laws in place.” 

“Fascinating, so you’re what all lower castes could be if given the chance to think freely? Sounds dangerous to the Senate.” Megatron pointed to his own processor. “I was never given any limits, but I was a miner. It was assumed I would learn nothing.” He smirked. “They were very wrong.” 

Orion nodded. “That’s part of the problem. This system only works so long as everyone remains where they are, never changing or thinking or doing something else. At its core, rebellion was inevitable.” 

Megatron leaned forward. “You could help me, I think, more than just as a simple archivist. If you joined me-.”

“No,” Orion shook his helm, “I won’t join a violent cause.” 

“And what would you prefer? The stagnation of our race? The doomed Senate in charge forever?”

“No, but I don’t agree with your methods, either.” Orion placed a hand over his spark chamber. “And yet, I think I should stay here. The Senate wants the Matrix to keep control of the populace. I can’t let them have this, it’s too important. Alpha Trion trusts a few of the Senators too much. I don’t.” 

“Zeta Prime is furiously looking for it.” Megatron admitted. “Alpha Trion must not trust him.” 

“No, Zeta Prime was a high caste mech. He will try to keep the status quo.” Orion finished his cube and sat it down on the console. “And he won’t surrender this war, not even if he has to burn everything down to win.” 

“So we’re alike in that regard.” Megatron said with pride. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Orion said sadly. “May I go to my room?” 

Megatron looked displeased, but he nodded. “You may.” 

It wasn’t terribly surprising to find Megatron making regular appearances after that talk. Megatron was obviously interrogating him, but under the facade of friendly conversation. Orion indulged himself, very aware the warlord could destroy him for any perceived slight. However, their talks did often involve philosophical sparring, of sorts, and Megatron seemed to enjoy them. 

Orion hated to admit it, but there was something charming about his captor. Between the work and their talks, he was getting into a routine. 

At one point, Soundwave was escorting him back and he asked, “Orion Pax, are you sure you don’t want to join the Decepticons?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Soundwave.” Orion stepped into his cell and turned to face the telepath. “Why do you ask?” 

Soundwave shrugged one shoulder. “You and Lord Megatron are compatible. I would prefer you as his partner over Starscream.” 

Orion shook his helm. “I couldn’t betray everything I stand for just because I like a mech, whether it’s Megatron or someone else.” 

“Understood.” Soundwave paused before he pressed the closed button. “But we are at war. Sometimes our principles must be compromised to survive.” 


	6. Sedated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight non-con in the sense that drugs are involved, but Optimus doesn't really mind.

When Megatron came into the cell, Optimus Prime was still groggy. Hook had patched him up as well as could be expected, but he used an obnoxious amount of sedatives on him. The paranoid medic didn't want the Autobot leader to take out the only Decepticon medic on Earth, even though Optimus never even hurt the mech on the battlefield. 

Two guards had laid Optimus down on his back in the center of the cell. He could only squirm minutely as Megatron walked over. The Decepticon leader suffered no injuries from their latest battle, and looked shiny as if he'd just come from the washracks. 

Megatron loomed over him as he said, "Prime?" in a soft whisper. He knelt down, straddling Optimus' hips. "Can't move, huh?" The grey mech grinned. "Good." 

Optimus groaned as Megatron nuzzled at his face. The tyrant bit into neck cables while his heavy hands groped at plating, his fingers digging into seams. The Prime shifted a little, but couldn't even turn his head away from his kiss Megatron placed on his cheek. Megatron rocked his codpiece against Optimus' hip, the metal hot and searing against him. 

"Taking...advantage..." Optimus tried to at least vocalize a protest, but he could barely string the words together in his processor. 

With a huff, Megatron kissed his battle mask. "Hush, it's just a frag." He moved a hand down to paw at Optimus' panel. His fingers delved into the sensitive wiring between his thighs. "You can take a little spiking, Prime, you've done it before." 

Optimus weighed his options as Megatron continued to rub his palm against the closed panel, his other hand rough in attempting to caress him. Optimus felt heavy and his frame wouldn't cooperate. With his energy running low, he wasn't really in the mood to try and fight.

Besides, in the other times Megatron managed to spike him, he'd never been overly cruel. Pushy? Rough? Harsh? Yes, all of thee above. He could extend a tentative trust, Megatron had proven he wouldn't wreck his valve or leave him permanently damaged. 

With a small sigh, he folded his panel away.

Megatron laughed against his plating and said, "Knew you'd see it my way." He shifted down, getting in between Optimus' thick legs. He put to fingers into his mouth, then brought them down to rub along Optimus' exposed valve. He sunk his fingers into the soft mesh, gently rocking them inside bit by bit. 

Optimus made small, uncomfortable sounds. Lubricant was slow to form, the sedatives messing with his normal functions. Lucky for him, Megatron took his time, wetting his fingers over and over again to plunge back into him. Eventually, his lubricants slicked along Megatron's fingers, and the warlord finally brought out his spike.

If he hadn't taken it before, the size and girth of the well endowed spike might've caused some fear. However, Megatron always scissored him open, making room for him. He did so now, putting in two, then three. Optimus shook, his thighs trembling as Megatron forced him open with those blunt black fingers of his.

"Megatron," he said weakly, an embarrassing burst of static spitting out. 

"Shh, it's alright," Megatron leaned down and kissed along the lines of his battle mask. "You're a strong mech, Prime, you can take it." 

Optimus hated how the small compliment undid some tension inside his spark. His fears melted away, assured by Megatron's confidence in him, which was a dangerous feeling, but he could worry about it later. 

Megatron finally took his spike in hand, bringing it to the lips of Optimus' valve. He teased, rolling the tip along the sides, before finally pushing in. The stretch burned a little, even with the preparation. Still, Megatron thrust his way inside.

All Optimus could do was lie there on the floor as Megatron pumped his hips against him. Megatron huffed in rhythm with his thrusts against his audial, his cooling fans kicking on, throwing sweltering air across Optimus. Megatron smelled of gunpowder and oil. 

Optimus shut off his optics, just feeling the spike move in and out of him, the clanging of their hips coming together. There was a perverse squelching sound of his lubricants kicking into high gear. Megatron loved to spike his valve whenever Prime was captured. It was always this messy and fast, always edging on a bit too rough, but not quite. 

As Megatron drilled into him, Optimus felt his array warm up. With all his systems slow to respond, everything focused into his interfacing routines. The overload built quick, but when it hit it lingered along his lines, making him sensitive. Megatron must've felt him come, because he gave up on any sense of pacing, his hips stuttering.

"Prime, mine, Prime," he huffed out. 

With a whole frame shudder, Megatron slammed his spike in one last time. Optimus felt the transfluid pulsing into him, and another small overload sizzled over his circuits, catching him by surprise. 

"Since you're being so submissive," Megatron said, "I think another round is in order." 

Optimus sighed, but didn't bother to protest. If Megatron was so determined to fill him up his spike, there wasn't much he could do to stop him. 

Besides, he never overloaded twice with Megatron before, so maybe this way he could get something out of their one-sided trysts, too. 


	7. Backfire PWP/ORGY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, the Decepticon plans go horribly awry. At least this time it's a little fun. 
> 
> PWP/ORGY

Taking over the Mars Orbital Space Station was easy enough. This ridiculous, oversized satellite was a creation of Wheeljack and the United Earth Alliance. The Decepticons on board didn't manage to kill any humans, as unfortunately the squishies were down on the Mars surface doing some awfully slow terraforming efforts. 

Starscream set up the trap with Thundercracker and Skywarp. Well, mostly Starscream shouted commands at them until he eventually did most of the work himself. No matter, Megatron thought to himself, as long as the trap actually worked. Soundwave stood at the ready near the large port for the shuttle bay. There wasn't much to the receiving room, just a bunch of metal boxes and various lifts meant to hold shuttles for repair. 

The Autobots were no doubt on their way, ready to help defend their precious little humans, but little would they know the whole plot was to destroy them. 

An alarm blared overhead just as Starscream announced, "Done! The toxin will cover the whole room. We should move-!" 

CLANG! Starscream squawked, his face going to the left. Megatron growled, throwing a punch into the invisible combatant. He hit true, and Mirage's invisibility shimmered and died. The smaller mech smirked at him. 

"What are you grinning for?" Megatron demanded. 

Mirage pointed to something behind him. 

Megatron didn't get a chance to turn around before Optimus Prime tackled him to the ground. They hit the ground grappling at each other. Megatron cut up his elbow, catching Optimus right in the chin. Using that distraction, he flipped their positions, landing a good punch into that face mask the Prime perpetually wore. He stood up to slam his huge pede into Optimus' abdominal plating.

Starscream was shrieking for the Decepticons to "Fall back! NOW!" Only to get hit in the wing with blaster fire by Mirage. The seeker crumbled to the ground, shouting in pain. Thundercracker was struggling to get out of a chokehold, held by Prowl with a fierce grimace on his face. Soundwave was dodging hits from Jazz until his back hit a wall. 

Megatron surged toward the door, only for a servo to wrap around his leg. He fell forward to the deck and smashed his whole left side into the floor. He groaned as he tried to flail a kick at his attacker, but Optimus Prime deftly missed it. 

In the chaos, Starscream was yelling something desperately at Mirage and Skywarp, but Megatron couldn’t quite make out what it was. He struggled with Prime covering his frame. His optics were narrowed and bright as he swung back his arm to punch him again when-.

POP! HISSSSSSSSSSSSSS! 

“Great, now we’re all going to deactivate!” Starscream yelled. 

Optimus Prime grabbed Megatron by his clavicle seam. He asked, “What have you done?” 

Megatron smirked at him. “I suppose I’ve finally managed to kill you, Prime. Even if I offline, better to see you dead with me.” 

Optimus flung him away and stood up. “Starscream! Where’s your antidote?”

“Excuse you? I don’t answer to-!” 

“There is a lab at this facility. We can make enough to give everyone.” Optimus Prime pointed towards a vast hall. “We don’t have time to squabble, do you want to live or not?” 

Megatron opened his mouth to order Starscream not to do it, but then a very loud, long moan caught him off guard. All the mechs in the room turned to find Thundercracker venting hard. Prowl behind him was loosening his grip on the seeker, falling to his knees. 

“Prowler, you ok?” Jazz asked. 

“Uh, something’s wrong,” Prowl managed to gasp out. “That can’t be right.”

“Oh,” Mirage did a full body shudder in Skywarp’s arms. “Oh, no, no, this is bad.” 

Skywarp’s optics blew wide. “Uh, Screamer, you uh...you sure about this toxin stuff?” 

“Yes! I personally put it together. You dare question my intelligence?” Starscream started huffing as well. “Right, antidote, let’s-let’s go Prime.” 

Optimus nodded, even as the toxin must’ve started affecting his systems as well. He took two hesitant steps towards the hall. Megatron watched with curiosity as the Prime didn’t even make it far before falling to his knees. 

A gasping Starscream fell to his knees as well. "Impossible! All my projections said..choking on our own energon by now. But we’re just...convulsing? Overheating?" 

Megatron looked over Starscream's helm. Convulsions didn't look like that, at least not in Megatron's experience. Both the Autobots and Decepticons were writhing on the floor, touching their own plating over and over again. He would see them labored in their venting and he could hear the whine of cooling fans kicked on. Were they overheating to death? What was going on? 

Optimus Prime looked worse as the seconds ticked by, as he curled up into a ball on the floor, grunting and groaning. Megatron, still level headed, hit one of Starscream's wings with a shoulder check. 

"Vent the room. We'll put them out of their misery." Megatron warmed up his canon. It would be quick, like he meant the toxin attack to be, not some long ordeal. 

Starscream shook his helm. "I think it’s too late for that. I can’t move, this thing is all through my systems.”

Thundercracker murmured, "Hey, anyone feeling, um, a bit hot?" He trembled against Prowl, his wings fluttering in the air. To Megatron’s horror, Prowl slid a servo along the edge of the blue seeker’s wing. Thundercracker squirmed, falling against Prowl instead of pushing away. "Oh no, oh no, oh Primus," he started gasping and gulping for air. 

Starscream got to one knee beside him. "Thundercracker! Close your vents." He grabbed something from his subspace. "I've got an antidote, but only enough for one, frag."

Megatron opened his mouth to demand it for himself, when an alert came up on his HUD.  _ Interfacing equipment activated.  _ He immediately fought to turn it off. He turned to look at Soundwave, but the huge blue warrior was occupied with Jazz grappling with him, no, caressing him? Skywarp hissed as he grabbed at Mirage’s armor. 

Megatron grabbed at Starscream, quickly understanding and pissed off about it. "This toxin is not going to kill anyone," he huffed. "It's not lethal."

"But it should be!" Starscream's vents gave up holding in his heat and whooshed open. "I was so careful! I labored over that project for months!” 

There was a sound, a tell-tale chlink of a panel folding back. Megatron turned to see Optimus Prime trying and failing to manually put his modesty panel back in place. A sudden, terrible thought crossed his processor. Before he could really stop himself, Megatron was walking over to the heat-addled Prime. 

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much.” Megatron dropped to one knee. “Look at you, Optimus, valve all exposed and wet.” He grabbed both of Optimus’ thighs, opening them up with little resistance on the Prime’s part. It was a pretty sight to see, Optimus’ head thrown back, hands moving up and down his frame, his valve clenching on nothing over and over again. Lubricant dripped out, and Megatron licked his lips. 

He bent down, lapping at the hot mesh, tasting the oh-so noble Prime’s arousal. Optimus cried out, tilting his hips up, giving Megatron better access. Megatron heard mewls and croons echo around in the shuttle bay as he sucked on the anterior node, making Optimus scream in pleasure. Oh, this was addictive, he thought to himself. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, just eating out Optimus Prime, tasting his lubricants as if they were life giving energon. He lapped at the mesh, dove in with his tongue, penetrating as deep as he could go with it, only to back out and lick around the valve again. His hands caressed into the thigh seams, finding sensitive little dips and grooves, listening for Optimus’ hitching and moaning. It wasn’t until he tasted the electric charge of a building overload that he finally stopped. 

At some point, his spike must’ve come out of its housing, but he hadn’t even noticed. He covered the Prime, noting how the battle mask had slid away, revealing the rarely seen face of his enemy. Megatron caught those lips into a deep kiss as he thrust all the way in until their hips clanged together. He caught Optimus’ whimpers as he slid nearly all the way out to surge back in again. 

Optimus kissed him back as Megatron rocked into him, his arms coming around his neck. He met the thrusts, wrapping one leg around Megatron’s hip to push him closer and keep him in deeper. Megatron couldn’t believe he’d waited millenia to do this, hadn’t even attempted the effort before! He heard Optimus making fractured, needy sounds, and he wanted those noises burned into his memory banks. 

Optimus clawed at his back. Megatron watched as Optimus’ frame locked up, shuddered, and the overload hit. He felt the valve clench hard around his spike. He fragged Optimus through that overload, hoping to get another one before he found his own release. Helm thrown back, Optimus looked blissed out, utterly captivating. 

Perhaps the toxin might have been a bust, but this was much more enjoyable. 

~~~

At some point, Megatron ended up on his back with the Prime nestled between his legs and gently fragging into his valve. Normally he wouldn’t allow it, his valve a piece of equipment he rarely desired to use, but Optimus wouldn’t mistreat him and he knew that. The Prime nuzzled against his cheek, and Megatron couldn’t help but nip at his jaw in return. 

He peered over Optimus’ shoulder to see the rest of their crew falling to the same urges that befell their leaders. Skywarp had Mirage bent over a box, spiking into the Autobot with a fervor that hadn’t let up the whole time they’d been under the influence of whatever was in the air. Mirage didn’t seem to mind. Prowl had Thundercracker on one end while Starscream used his trine mate’s mouth. Jazz was getting pounded into the wall by Soundwave. 

Megatron opened his thighs wider, pushing up to get his anterior node rubbed against the Prime’s frame with each languid thrust. He kept watching as Skywarp fragged Mirage as if the Towers mech were some kind of shareware. Starscream came inside Thundercracker’s mouth. He and Prowl shared a look, and they switched places. Jazz made encouraging noises as Soundwave picked up the pace again. 

He knew he should be furious, he should make them all stop, but that logical side of him kept slipping away. Optimus was very, very good at spiking. With just the right tilt of his hips, his spike would drag up along the Megatron’s internal nodes. Primus, it was good, and Megatron couldn’t even remember the last time he interfaced feeling this good. It was always rushed, fast, and sometimes cruel. 

Might as well lay back and enjoy it while he could. 

~~~

“Eight fragging hours,” Starscream huffed into Megatron’s audial. “We might just die from too much interfacing?” 

“Possibly,” Megatron conceded as he bounced the seeker on his spike. 

Optimus was beside him on his hands and knees as Soundwave spiked him like he meant to kindle the Prime. Mirage was now in Thundrcracker’s lap, gently getting rocked instead of hammered into, while Prowl and Skywarp were rolling around on the floor switching their positions like some kind of game. Jazz was the only mech trying to fight through his condition long enough to vent the room, even though his spike was still jutting out from his interface array as he walked. 

“I want the Prime next,” Starscream said over to Soundwave. He got a grunt as an acknowledgment. 

~~~

Another two hours later, their systems were finally managing to return to normal. That being said, Megatron managed to get his servos on Prowl and he wasn’t going to stop until he came into that tactitican’s valve. Prowl wasn’t complaining as Megatron squeezed him by his aft and put him on a box. He fragged into Prowl until the silver little car was full of his transfluid. 

Starscream was enamored with Prime, especially Prime’s well endowed spike, and made good use of it. Skywarp was getting his circuits fried by Jazz and Thundercracker. Somehow, both spikes were thrusting into Skywarp’s valve, making the purple seeker a screaming and sobbing mess. Soundwave had his back to the wall with Mirage in his lap. Mirage’s back was to Soundwave’s chest. Occasionally, Soundwave would pick up Mirage by his hips and fragged him until he came again, but then they’d settle down to watch when Soundwave was done. 

Megatron grumbled against Prowl’s forehead, “I suppose you’ll want to discuss a ceasefire?” 

Prowl hummed in agreement. “We’ll all need medical checks. If one of us is kindled, we’ll have to discuss that as well. All in all, it would be beneficial to have some time to recover.” 

“Agreed.” Megatron couldn’t find it in himself to get overly picky on negotiations. “But in return, Optimus Prime reports to me for personal discussions on peace talks.” 

Prowl laughed into his chestplates. “Of course.” 

Just for that, Megatron put Prowl’s legs up by his audials and fragged him again. 

~~~

Starscream ended up strutless and passed out alongside the Prime. Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Jazz were in stasis in a pile together. Soundwave had removed himself from a passed out Mirage only to fall into recharge himself while still against the wall. Megatron took it upon himself to get his mechs into the shuttle, one by one, starting with Soundwave and working his way around the room. Optimus Prime watched him with dim optics, one arm slung over Starscream. 

When it came time to take the red seeker, Megatron gave the Prime a lecherous grin. “See you soon, Prime.” 

Optimus made a pleased sound. “See you soon.” 


	8. Backfire #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, there was a little plot. No orgy this time, sorry.

The announcement of Optimus Prime and his Second in Command, Prowl, being kindled was met with a variety of responses. Many mecha whinged about their “holy Prime” falling from grace by having a sparkling without bonding, to wit Megatron could only roll his optics. He received a report (and vicious lecture) from Ratchet about both of the kindled Autobots. 

“Congratulations, you depraved war monger, you’re a father.” 

The news shouldn’t have filled Megatron with such intense pride that he managed to kindle two mechs in the space of only a few hours, but it did. Thankfully, most of his soldiers were responsible enough to keep their buffers up to date. Well, all but one. 

In all honesty, it was a miracle Skywarp didn’t end up sparked long before this point. The purple mech was ecstatic about the news, already picking out names, most of which Starscream shot down as “asinine human drivel!” Thundercracker spent most of his off time making plans and coordinating with the sire, Jazz, about visitation and medical history. 

It bothered many an Autobot that Megatron “took advantage” of their Prime, but it bothered them even more that the Decepticon leader was now making regular visits to the Ark. Megatron ignored the glares and the angry faces as he passed them by, his sights set on finding Prowl and Optimus. Prowl was the easiest to find, the mech in his office, a cooling pad on his chest and a datapad in hand. 

Megatron locked the door behind him, not wanting some trigger happy idiot to come in to “save” Prowl. The large grey mech walked over to brush the back of his knuckles along Prowl’s forehead. 

He asked, “How are you faring?” 

Prowl gave him a weak smile. “I keep purging. Ratchet says it’s normal, that the new spark is probably messing with my systems, but it’s quite inconvenient.” 

“Should you be working?” Megatron gently plucked the datapad from Prowl’s servo. “Whatever you’re plotting I’m sure can wait until after the emergence.” 

“Plotting, he says, as if I’m making grand schemes like Starscream.” Prowl shifted in his seat and moved the blue pad to the left. “I’m making rosters. Prime and I will need time off, and when we do, I want to be sure we’re leaving the team with good replacements.” 

“While I admire your work ethic, you’re grimacing every time you move, and all you’re doing in sitting in a chair.” Megatron put the datapad on the desk. “Come, let’s get you to berth.” 

“You are not carrying me again,” Prowl said as he attempted to stand. “I can walk just fine on my own.” 

“Oh?” Megatron stepped back and gestured to the door. “By all means, show me.” 

Needles to say, after barely making it three steps, Megatron swooped the angry silver police car into his large arms. Prowl grumbled about it the whole way back to his room, but Megatron ignored the SIC’s irritation. When they arrived in Prowl’s room, Megatron found a half-made sparkling berth and various other sparkling items milled about on the floor. 

Settling Prowl down into his berth, Megatron said, “I take it you’ve never put together much furniture.” 

“Oh, shut up. Jazz is the one who keeps trying and failing. I don’t have time to assemble this nonsense.” Prowl made a soft noise of pain. “I really do wish this tiny speck would just simmer down.” 

Megatron moved over to the crate with the sparkling berth pieces sticking out of it haphazardly. “Well, this won’t do at all.” He took out two pieces and clicked them together. 

Prowl sat up to watch him work. “How did you even know those would fit together?” 

“I’ve made a few cots in my time.” Megatron deftly connected more pieces. He took apart Jazz’s half-made box and added in the right components, screwing in bolts the right way. “Granted, not for a sparkling, but it’s about the same idea.” 

Prowl hummed in agreement. “That’s oddly attractive.” 

Megatron paused in his work to send Prowl a soft glare. “Furniture assemblage is what gets you hot?”

Prowl shrugged. “I’ve been told I’m in a nesting stage.”

Megatron shook his helm. He finished off the basic berth shape and set it down on the floor. He turned back to Prowl, his servos reaching for the smaller mech. Prowl leaned back into the berth, opening up his legs to let Megatron slot in between them. 

It was almost automatic at this point. Prowl snapped back his panel and Megatron slid his spike into the wet heat. Megatron was very gentle, trying not to jostle Prowl too much with his rocking. Giving him some transfluid would help the sparkling grow, but also Prowl’s creator protocols needed the intimacy of interfacing. In turn, Megatron’s ever demanding and overprotective sire protocols were soothed by interfacing with his ‘mate,’ even if both of them agreed there would be no sparkbond to seal the deal. 

The overload built slow and steady. Prowl sighed as he tilted his helm back. Megatron kissed up along the column of Prowl’s neck cables. It was astonishing how quickly he became wrapped up in making a brood. Every moment he spent alone he delved into sparkling development, preparing his troops for eventual peace talks, and just in general preparing himself to be a sire. 

Prowl never shouted his overload, but instead he made a long moan. Megatron could feel the calipers along his spike squeezing him. With a grunt, his own interface systems threw him into an overload, a nice lingering one that warmed his circuits. 

Megatron placed a kiss against his cheek and murmured, “I’ll finish the berth, then I have to go.” 

With a hum of agreement, Prowl already looked like he was drifting off to recharge. His spark pulsed, content in this tender moment. Megatron smiled to himself for a job well done. 

~~~

Optimus Prime was managing far better than Prowl. When Megatron found him at the command bridge, the Prime looked no worse for wear, besides his chestplates obviously bigger than three months ago. Optimus waved at him in acknowledgment as he finished talking with Ironhide. Megatron heard the sound of a mech squeaking in terror, and turned to find Red Alert blowing a gasket, again. 

With a sigh, Cliffjumper caught the mech before he could hit the ground. “We really gotta update your systems, my mech.” Red Alert just twitched in his arms.

Ironhide rolled his optics and walked over to check on their Head of Security. Optimus Prime moved to Megatron’s side. He grabbed Megatron’s hand to lead him to his office just down the hall. Megatron didn’t bother to fight the hold. He discovered that Optimus was a tactile mech, whereas Prowl only wanted to be touched in interface. The Prime liked to put his servos on his team’s shoulders, hugged his friends, and with Megatron he started touching in little ways more and more. 

Megatron tolerated the touching at first, but now it felt natural. As they entered Optimus’ office, the hand holding his brought it up to hold under his glass windshield. 

Optimus said, “They’re moving around a lot, feel.” 

Megatron splayed his large hand out. He smiled as he felt it, the inconsistent and fast pulsing of another spark traveling inside the chamber just under the Prime’s armor. Optimus winced and Megatron felt it blast into the left side of the chamber. 

“Hurts?” Megatron asked.

“Uncomfortable,” Optimus told him. “I’m progressing faster than Ratchet projected. Emergence should happen in the next couple of weeks.” 

“Comm me as soon as you get the alert. I’ll be there as soon as I’m able.” Megatron should’ve sounded more commanding about it, but his voice was softer than he intended, as if he didn’t want to disturb the tiny life forming just out of reach. 

Optimus cupped Megatron’s cheek with his other servo. “You’ll be there, Megatron. It’ll go well. I haven’t had any issues with carrying, and none are expected in my emergence.” 

“I know,” Megatron said, “all the same.” 

“Right.”

It shouldn’t have come as a big surprise to discover that they fell so in sync when it came to developing their relationship. Millions of years as combatants they memorized each other’s strengths and weaknesses on and off the battlefield. Megatron could tell in the subtle twitch of Optimus’ left optic that he was stressed, just as Optimus knew when Megatron huffed it was more often in amusement and not annoyance as some thought. When your whole existence balanced on the knife’s edge of knowing what the other party was going to do, you figured out every aspect you possibly could that would be beneficial to winning. 

Well, not that winning was really on either of their processors anymore. In an unspoken truce, Optimus and Megatron agreed to drop the war, at least until their sparkling emerged. Perhaps at some tragic point down the road they would have to restart animosities, but Megatron found himself unable to force the issue. It helped that Starscream was indisposed with his own trinemate gravid with spark, and the other Decepticons seemed to follow the lead of their warlord and start making sparklings of their own. 

The Nemesis was going to get rather cramped within the Earth year. 

According to Optimus, most Autobots were well equipped with buffers and other arrays meant to keep them from having sparklings, but if the looks Megatron saw between bonded pairs in the halls told him anything...the Ark wasn’t going to be much better off very soon. Ratchet had promised retribution to any mech that managed to get kindled before he dealt with Optimus and Prowl, so perhaps fear of the medic was keeping most panels closed. 

Optimus stepped forward to kiss the high ridge of Megatron’s cheek. “Did you see to Prowl?” 

“Yes, I even assembled his sparkling berth.” Megatron chuckled and shook his helm. “If I had known Jazz was so useless at construction I would’ve found a way to exploit that forever ago.” 

“Spec Ops generally don’t need to deal with that kind of work.” Optimus roamed his fingers up and down Megatron’s plating. “Be kind, he’s dealing with Skywarp, after all.” 

“Hmph, true.” Megatron turned his helm to catch Optimus in a lingering kiss. The Prime kissed him back. He moaned softly into Megatron’s mouth, and already the Decepticon leader felt his cooling fans kick on. 

He bullied Optimus to lay on the desk, knocking over anything on it to make room. Optimus grabbed at Megatron’s shoulder, pulling him closer while sliding back his valve panel. Megatron picked up Optimus’ large legs, dangling them over his elbow joints. His spike came out of its housing half erect. In a teasing mood, he nuzzled just the tip along the Prime’s dripping valve. 

Optimus knocked a fist into Megatron’s shoulder. “Get in!” 

Megatron smirked down at him, “Not going to beg for it, Prime?” 

With a hot glare, Optimus grabbed hold of Megatron’s hip with one hand and pulled him forward. Megatron hissed as his spike slid in one stroke. He laughed against the Prime’s clavicle, amused and strangely proud. 

“That was underhanded of you,” Megatron said as he began to thrust at a slow pace. “I approve.” 

Optimus groaned as he said, “I’m not about to start letting you think I’ll be a doormat just because you spike me.” 

Megatron didn’t stop moving even as he asked, “What’s a doormat?” 

Optimus rolled his optics. “I’ll explain later, for now…” The Prime wrapped cupped both his hands and forced Megatron into a deep, heated kiss. “Frag me, Lord Megatron of Kaon, frag me like you mean it.” 

“If you insist,” Megatron surged forward, biting hard into Optimus’ nack cables, pulling at them as he thunk-ed his hips over and over into Optimus’ valve. Optimus arched up, crying out in pain even as he grappled with Megatron to force him to stay. Losing all control, Megatron drilled into the soaking wet valve of the Prime, letting his frame give into base instincts. 

The desk groaned in protest with each hit. The metallic clangs of their frames crashing together was a ruckus that surely others in the hallway would hear, but Optimus was far beyond caring. His thighs tightened around Megatron’s waist, a sign of his impending overload. Megatron savored this feeling of his spike encased in that tight valve, the hot venting air landing on his plating, Optimus crying out as Megatron gave him exactly what he asked for, and the final culmination of that vicious overload charging through them both. 

Megatron stayed hilted inside Optimus as they came down from their high. Optimus kept touching him, his hands roaming over the wide expanse of Megatron’s back. Megatron gently took his derma out of the Prime’s neck, lapping at the energon lines in an almost apology. 

When he finally reset his vocalizer to speak, he asked, “Anywhere you need to be soon?”

Optimus shook his helm. “No. Round two?” 

“Frag yes.” 


	9. Act of Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the feels I'm about to inflict on you.

Conjunx endura rites were a bit different depending on the region in Cybertron. 

The Act of Intimacy was often the act of interfacing. Some mecha considered sparkbonding to be the “official” form of interacting, as conjunx endura used to be called “sparkbonding” back in the day. However, some mecha considered it to be a valve and spike interface, or perhaps a full mindlinking interface. The Act of Disclosure could then also happen that way, with no secrets left on either side of a mindlink interface, but other mecha considered that too invasive. Better to just tell a secret you never told anyone before and leave it at that. The Act of Profference also meant a gift, but of course the gifts were culturally reflective. Starscream gave his trine weapons, of course, as they were a military cold forged caste. 

While the three basic tenets remained more-or-less the same, there were some variations of other “side quests” as it were, or perhaps some dowry price or another to hand off from creator to the higher status bonded mech. Vaporex was a city-state that valued such a concept, but the same kind of “buying” system would be abhorrent in Praxus or Vos. 

Kaon’s culture was too chaotic for most outsiders to pin down in terms of conjunxing rites. As Orion Pax discovered in his own research, most Decepticons found the mere idea of conjunx endura as “ridiculous nonsense,” with most of them choosing multiple partners. It didn’t help that most mecha in the city were not originally from Kaon, but outcasts from all the regions of Cybertron, making it a smelting pot in terms of cultural identity. In his time with Megatronus limited to the gladiatorial arena, his chances for discovering more about such topics was hindered. 

It was a side project for Orion anyway, easy to let go and just enjoy his time spent with his revolutionary friend, but something nagged at Orion whenever Megatronus gave him a heated look, or squeezed his shoulder a bit too long, or ran his knuckles along his cheek, or-STOP. They were friends, nothing more, nothing less. 

Right? 

Orion shook his helm, snapping himself out of that line of thought. He was working on another translation of a text that mentioned Nova Prime and his travels among the stars. After that, he needed to copy a Sentinel Prime document into encryption to send off to a different mech in Iacon. He couldn’t get lax in his duties even if he was helping Megatronus create a better world. 

The mech in question was sharpening a very long sword in a seat not far from Orion. Megatronus would level out the weapon, assess the sharpness, only to go back and swipe down the blade with a stone again. Orion watched him out of the corner of his optics, unable to help himself. Sometimes the simplest acts caught his attention with Megatronus, and although he tried to deny it, Orion knew he was at least a bit enamored. 

“It’s getting late,” Megatronus said. “Will you fuel with me?” 

“Of course,” Orion said as he finished off a sentence and saved his file. “I might’ve forgotten to have my mid-day fuel.”

“Orion!” Megatronus put his sword up on the wall. “You can’t keep working yourself so hard. I need you, my friend, and so does the cause-.”

“I know, I know,” Orion stood up while putting up his hands in a placating way, “I’ll make sure to take a break tomorrow.” 

Megatronus folded his large arms. “Don’t make me ask Starscream to check in on you.”

“Oh Primus, please, no.” Orion laughed. “Fine, fine, I’ll set an alarm.” 

Megatronus cupped the side of Orion’s face. His sharp thumb gently swiped under Orion’s optic. “You’re exhausted. I can tell. Please, if not for your sake, then for mine, take care of yourself. You’re too important for me to lose.” 

Orion covered the clawed hand with his own blunt one. “Your kindness is appreciated. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you. I’ll endeavor to take better care of myself.” 

“Good,” Megatronus leaned down to give him a chaste kiss before pulling away. “Let us go down to the fueling hall. I’m sure Starscream is waiting to ambush me with another scheme.” 

Sure enough, as soon as Orion and Megatronus entered, Starscream brought up two datapads in hand and a long list of demands. Megatronus only sighed as he listened to the red seeker convince him of the plan's necessity. Orion walked over to the tankard of energon and got two cubes filled for him and Megatron. Soundwave met him there to get his own cubes. 

Soundwave said, “Almost finished?” 

“Almost, but not quite.” Orion sighed. “The work is taking a while to localize in terms of context. I decided to add in notes along the way of other translation options, and that unfortunately added more time than I intended to the project.” 

“Your thorough work is always appreciated, Pax.” Soundwave motioned to Starscream and Megatronus bickering about the details of the seeker’s plans. “Even Starscream appreciates it, even if he will never say so.” 

Orion shrugged. “He’s not the mech I’m here to impress.” 

“No, I figured as such.” Soundwave patted Orion on the shoulder. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Congratulations?” Orion asked. “I’m sorry, for what?” 

Soundwave tensed. “Nothing. Perhaps I misread.” 

“Misread what?” Orion asked, doubly curious. 

The blue communications officer took a step back. “Never mind, it’s nothing important. Your relationship with Megatronus must be different than I gleaned from his processor...or...just never mind.” 

“Relationship?” Orion didn’t get a chance to keep asking as Soundwave beat a hasty retreat out of the dining hall and out towards the gladiatorial barracks. Megatronus walked up to him to take his fuel and down it in one long gulp. Orion sipped on his, wondering what that was all about. 

~~~

Orion laid beside Megatronus in the gladiator’s berth still wondering about that odd talk. Megatronus was deep in recharge, one arm keeping Orion tucked close to him while the canon arm was aimed at the door. Even in his sleep, Megatronus was ready to protect him. Despite the violent implications of it, Orion found it endearing. 

He shifted to get a bit closer, and Megatronus’ arm tightened around him in return. Orion smiled to himself. Even if the revolution fell through and the whole world was against them, Orion felt like nothing in the verse could tear him from the comfort of these arms. He nuzzled his face into Megatronus’ vast chestplates.

A sleepy, grumbling voice asked him, “Do I need to wear you out before that processor of yours shuts off?” 

Orion sheepishly ducked his head. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Hush,” Megatronus rolled over with a large yawn, revealing his fanged derma, “open up.” 

Orion shifted into position easily enough. His panel slid back to reveal his valve. Megatronus’ spike extended from its housing, and in the dark Orion could see the dim blue bio-lights lighting up their frames. Gently, Megatronus sheathed himself to the hilt, his arms coming around Orion’s lithe form to hold him close. Orion moaned, shuttering his optics to just feel. Megatronus’ spike was far bigger than most spikes he’d ever taken inside. It edged on a bit too much, a pleasant burn of a stretch, his internal nodes all getting attention as Megatronus rocked into him. 

Orion let Megatronus kiss him deeply. Until this gladiator took him to berth, Orion hadn’t experienced making love before. Interfacing, sure, but something about this tender warrior taking his time to build up Orion’s charge, always so attentive and awfully careful, it made Orion’s spark do somersaults in its casing. He moaned into the kiss as Megatronus kept going at this slow, even pace. 

His friends in Iacon all thought of the citizens of Kaon as the same: brutish thugs with no tolerance or mercy. Megatronus broke all such expectations, taking Orion to berth with both in equal measure. As they rocked together in the berth, Orion desperately wished they could just stay in this room, just savoring each other for days upon weeks. He never wanted someone so much, even as he knew he shouldn’t. 

When Megatronus reverently whispered Orion’s name as he overloaded, Orion’s spark burned in equal passion. 

~~~

In the dim light of the morning, Megatronus washed up with Orion under solvent spray in a make-shift washrack. It was a luxury for Megatronus to have his own, a reward after the longest winning streak in the arenas’ history. Still, they were on a limited timer for heat. Orion and Megatronus washed each other quickly, even if their servos lingered here and there. 

Eventually, Orion managed to force both of them into work. Megatronus left to see his council while Orion went back to his diligent translation efforts. He stayed in the room as it had a lock on the door, and with guards posted in the hall it was the most secure place Orion could be in Kaon doing such secretive work. About mid-day, Orion got up to walk to the dining hall. 

When he entered, a few of the Decepticons stopped talking and stared at him. Confused, Orion waved to stay friendly before going to the tankard. He just filled his cube before someone finally broke. 

Of course, it was Starscream. “PAX! Quick question, are you completely inept at social interactions or were you just born without a processor?!” 

Orion turned to frown at Starscream. “Shouldn’t you be in meetings with Soundwave?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Starscream stood up and dramatically pointed at him. “Do you accept or not?”

“Accept what?” Orion asked. 

“Oh for Primus’ sake!” Starscream slapped a servo to his helm. “You’re hopeless.” 

Thundercracker beside him muttered to Starscream. “Stop! We don’t know how far it is yet!” 

Deadlock behind Starscream exclaimed, “Come on, Orion! You can’t tell me you’ve not noticed the signs?”

Orion just stared at everyone. “I feel as if I’m taking part in a lecture and I didn’t read the notes. Can somebot just tell me what’s going on?” 

Thundercracker sighed. “Megatronus has kind of been trying to conjunx you?” 

Orion stared at him. The other Decepticons stared back. Silence. 

“I beg your pardon?” Orion finally said.

Deadlock waved his arms around in the air. “Are you kidding me?” 

Thundercracker threw himself between Orion and the crowd. “Alright! Orion, listen, Megatronus perhaps hasn’t said anything, or perhaps we’re looking at this wrong, but we have never seen him take a mech to his room. He protects you, he fuels with you, and, well, it seems as if he has completed at least one or two of the rites?”

“But I…” Orion looked around the room. “I don’t know?” 

Starscream shouted, “Then ask him! The betting pool is getting ridiculous and I have shanix at stake here!” 

~~~

Megatronus didn’t return until deep into the night. Orion was already into a resting cycle when large, warm servos trailed over his form. Waking up slowly, he hummed in contentment as the huge gladiator slid into the berth behind him. With a kiss against the back of his neck, Megatronus settled into the berth covers. 

Orion murmured, “Tough day?”

Megatronus grunted an answer, his arms slipping around Orion’s narrow waist to pull him close. “Five events, and all of them with mechs twice my size. They all fell.” 

“Of course they did,” Orion said. 

“Did I ever tell you how terrified I was in my first battle?” Megatronus nuzzled against the back of Orion’s helm. “I was shaking in my plating, like some errant newspark. I hated that feeling, and I swore I would never experience it again.” 

Orion put his hands over the ones on his abdominal plates. “I can’t imagine that kind of fear. The most nervous I have ever been was I suppose coming to Kaon to meet you. I’d never been outside Iacon before. It still gives me a slight rush to drive out of the city’s limits.” 

“I’m glad you did.” Megatronus sighed hot air along Orion’s back. “I can’t imagine my life without you now.” 

Orion smiled. “I feel much the same.” 

~~~

In Iacon, there was always a declaration of intent before starting the rites. Sometimes it was a grandiose display, with one mech getting on bended knee to proclaim their affections. Sometimes it was a simple letter. Orion didn’t know how it worked in Kaon, but he had assumed that somehow he should have known about being wooed or seduced into a courtship of some kind? 

Unable to keep torturing himself about it, Orion asked Megatronus as they laid there in bed in the morning. “Are you wanting to conjunx me?” 

Megatronus answered with a very curt, “Yes,” and lifted up to stare down at Orion, “but I was hoping to wait until after the revolution.” 

“Oh,” Orion sat up as well, “yes, that makes sense.” 

Megatronus leaned forward, bumping their foreheads together. “I want to give you a changed Cybertron, a world where you and I can shape the future together. It will be my gift, and an act of devotion.” 

“Act of devotion?” Orion asked. 

Megatronus kissed him, a long and savoring act. “It’s a rite from ancient times, something done with selfless intent, for the benefit of another to prove their loyalty.” 

Orion wrapped his arms around the gladiator’s neck. “How could I ever deserve such deep affection?” 

“You need only be you, Orion.” Megatronus rolled them until he was on top. “Let me make this world fit for a grand, lasting peace, and then be my conjunx endura.” 

“Yes,” Orion said with a breathless voice, “yes, I would love to be yours forever, Megatronus.” 

~~~

Optimus Prime stood looking up at the stars. The sky on Earth was beautiful in the Nevada desert with no light pollution to ruin the view. Optimus put a servo over his chestplates, as if he could temper the pain from the backlog of memories. Sometimes, he wondered if Megatron ever looked back with the same melancholy, a near constant curse for the Prime. 

No, he knew that Megatron’s hate won out over whatever love or affection the warlord once had for him. Nothing from that past could be salvaged. 

All the same, Optimus Prime would create peace on Cybertron, now his final act of devotion.


End file.
